Meaning of Life

Millions of people have dedicated their lives to figuring out the purpose and meaning of life.

Writings are found in scriptures, and it is arguably the point of most, if not all religions.

Here I sit, after watching the movie Gifted, and I am contemplating the meaning of life. What the hell.

I've been in existential crisis mode for years. Maybe it is my developmental stage. Maybe I'm destined for greatness. Maybe, just maybe, I'm having the same wonderings that everybody else has because that's just what humans do. We all think that our lives should have meaning.

Some of us find meaning in making loads of friends and having tons of connections. Some of us have incredible brain power and focus on academia, solving the problems of the world, or inventing things. Some of us believe that bringing children into the world, loving them, and raising them to be "good people" or the best they can be is the point in life. Some of us chase monetary gains, travel experiences, time with friends and family, or other means to make our days full and busy and something that will strengthen the heart.



Bear with me for a moment, but what if there is more?

There has to be more to life than marrying someone, procreating, having happy days, chasing dreams, studying your life away, enjoying sunsets, and believing in some sort of deity or spiritual power.

There has to be more than waking up, eating, going on about your day doing whatever makes you happy or whatever is "necessary" for sustaining the life you believe you need to have, and then sleeping.

There has to be more than meeting your basic survival needs, maybe adding in some fun and relationships, and then calling it good for the entirety of your thousands of days on earth.

There has got to be something bigger behind us "making a life for ourselves" while on this earth, and potentially having your name or "legacy" remembered for a few generations. Somewhere along the line, whether a few days or thousands of years after you die, you will be forgotten.



So, then, what's the point? What's the point in going into millions of dollars of debt to continue on in your schooling? What's the point in losing time with family and friends so that you can go study? What is the point in trying to solve problems of the world, because you won't be able to solve all of the problems of the world. Plus, for each problem you solve, there are probably hundreds of others that come up.

What's the point in me missing time with friends and family to work? It doesn't matter that I love my job and my friends are also at work. The point is that I am "sacrificing" time of my life, a lot of time for that matter, to serve others who will no sooner forget my name than 3.85 seconds after I sign off for the day with them and the next shift comes in to take over.

But, then, what's the point in spending time with friends and family? They'll die, and betray you, and hurt your feelings, and cost you money, and be a weight on your shoulders. Yes, they are fun, provide love, and allow you to occupy your time doing desirable activities (hopefully). But, what's the reasoning behind it?

Why do we spend most of our lives with people we barely know, providing services that don't benefit us more than bringing in a paycheck, in order to spend money traveling, eating, on family, and to provide a roof over our heads and maybe even a bed to sleep on. Who cares? By the time you die, will that job really have meant a whole lot? It keeps you away from your family and friends, requires training and brain power, causes stress, forces you to interact with people who may/may not cause mental/physical/emotional harm to you.

Doesn't this seem counter-intuitive? Doesn't it all come out in the wash as being futile?

Why bring kids into the world? By your actions, another life is added to the count on earth. By doing this, you sign up another being to a life that is not guaranteed anything but turmoil, pain, sharp learning curves, ridicule, tears, and suffering. Great, there are times of laughter and joy. But, we're human. Being a Bible-believer, I believe it when G-d said we are going to spend our whole lives toiling. And for what?

Yeah, kids are great. If I believe that last bit about the Bible, I also have to believe that G-d told us to "be fruitful and multiply". To which I get to add ALL of the passages about life being painful, stupid, futile, lacking in meaning, and I come to the conclusion that none of it makes sense. Why sign another human being up for the pains and challenges of life that WE refuse to deal with on a daily basis?! Those poor little beings don't even have a choice in the matter! I didn't have a choice in the matter of being place here, with the difficulties of life, and yet here I am. I'm not mad at anyone that I'm here, I just don't find it particularly logical for me to bring a life into the world when I cannot rationalize being here, myself. (Which is probably for the best seeing as I would, at the very least, need to go find a sperm donor, cook the little soul for several months, and then go through the laboring to get the little life out of me... via torture that is largely self-inflicted.)



You can argue that our meaning in life is to be a good person, for G-d to mold us into whatever He wants us to be. Blah, blah, BLAH. Yada yada. *insert Charlie Brown's teacher in the middle of an 8 hour rant here*

I don't care.



None of this makes any sense to me. The older I get, the more research I do, the more I study scriptures and listen to people (from all backgrounds, not just seminary grads), and the more I have time to think and experience things, the more I believe that most of what I've been taught in church is bullshit.

In my experience, church is a place that you go to make friends. Yeah, you get taught some things and sing a few songs, but it's largely just a meet-up group with the common theme of religion. You can have faith if you want it, or you don't have to. You can make friends if you want, but you don't need to. There will be cliques, popular teachings, big things that are swept under the rug, drama, lies, dysfunction, abuse, and terrible damage inflicted on many.

There are lots of rules, but if you don't follow the rules you can just keep those a secret and ask forgiveness later (if you want). Sometimes there is even food. Read the book, don't read the book. Study on your own, or trust what the people talking at you say. None of it really matters because at the end of the hour and a half meeting, most of us are simply wiping drool from the corners of our mouths while rubbing sleep from our eyes or frantically scribbling down our to-do list that was bombarding our brains through the sermon. Others of us are being elbowed to bring us back from the 3 hour long day dream we just got lost in. (And yes, if you did the math, the time I allotted in this make-believe sermon was only 1.5 hours... Doesn't add up, does it? Exactly my point.)

You can feed me lines that we are humans leading humans by the leading of G-d and some other bunch of nonsense about how important church is, but I'll just get my eye roll exercises in for the week. Start spouting off the shitty cliches we learn in church about meaning, existence, purpose, forgiveness, and whatever else they've bombarded us with, and I will let you watch me walk away.



There has to be more than this. What is it?

I don't doubt that G-d is there, in control... somewhere. I believe the Bible and pray (sometimes). Maybe a lot of this stems from a struggle of faith right now. Perhaps the model of church that is causing such cynicism is something that I should be fighting against. Maybe I just despise the church that I've been going to for the past couple of weeks and I need to find a new one. Maybe I'm just hopeless in life and spirituality is one of the higher tiers of Maslow's hierarchy and it's not my foremost goal at the moment.

Who knows?! I just know that life largely sucks at the moment. It has for months now. I'm over it.

But I don't want to take meds.

Open Letter to Best Friend

Dear Best Friend,

I recently texted you after 3 months of not talking (my decision). The text was a looooooong apology. I apologized for mixed signals, not sticking to my boundaries, for not being a good friend when you've been so supportive in the past. I told you I have missed you and I have missed having my "best friend" around in a time of great need. The apologies were many, and long, and heartfelt.

What did you text back? You told me you didn't know what to say but that you've missed me too. Then, you gave me a rundown of your last 3 months of life.

I can appreciate that. I can understand wanting to move on and pretend like nothing happened. I get it, I'm not dumb. Plus, I know how guys work and how your brain works because I've studied guys and I know you. I've been around you and talking with you about the deep things of life for 5+ years. I figured you out. You tell me that all the time.

You then proceeded to make jokes and say "we should do it again" and referred to it as "a night of fun". That's when I went from disappointed that you didn't feel the need to acknowledge my pain from the apologies, to beyond angry and my blood went boiling. You had the nerve to shove it in my face that something that has caused me so much pain did, in fact, happen. And then you're going to minimize it and make me feel cheap by calling it a "night of fun" and say that we should "do it again" since we probably won't have a friendship the way we had before.

Fuck you.

I cried in your car. I have explained to you how much this hurt me. I have told you that I don't remember a cursed thing about that night and that I was upset with the decisions you made against my wished and my plans. And you want to make jokes at my expense and expect me to not be upset?!? No. No. No. No. NO.

I don't know why I feel the need to apologize over and over. I don't understand it myself. Probably some disfunction that I also feel the need to compulsively apologize for.

When you begin texting me, like nothing has changed, and I come up with the idea that we stop talking again, don't be surprised. Don't be upset, don't expect anything less. There's a good chance I'm just going to block you again without saying anything. I've tried the friends thing. I've tried to move on, and you make jokes at my expense. You ignored my boundaries. You continued to push me after I was already crying, hyperventilating, and freaking out. It was enough to even freak you out. You took advantage of someone who you knew was already hurting and who had been very clear. You broke my very fragile trust and then decided that I am not worth the dirt on your shoes. I mean nothing to you. I can take the hint.

Foolish me believed that you had my best interest in mind. I was dumb enough to believe that I could forgive and move past and that you would be sensitive to my hurting that I fucking spelled out for you.

Man alive, I'm such an idiot sometimes.

I hope you have a nice life.

Signed,
A girl trying to allow G-d to make Beauty from these Ashes

Injustices All Around

I crave justice. I strive for fairness in all I do, and simply desire that that be returned to me. Of course, this is ridiculous.

The world is not fair. Life is not fair. Justice belongs only to G-d. He is the only one that can enforce anything, who knows what happens honestly, and who can actually fairly judge anyone.

If life were fair:

• Abuse, assault, and pain would be non-existent
• Neglect in care would not be seen for anyone
• IF bad things happened, then people would be fully prosecuted for their wrong-doings
• exboyfriend would be in jail or convicted and registered as a sexual offender
• exfiance would definitely be in jail
• OR, better yet, they would have both been stoned in the "old days"
• This illegal alien with felonies, multiple deportations, and various other charges, would have been imprisoned and charged with murder, because that's what he did
• All these asshole executives would never assault, harass, and torture people just because they think the world should worship them
• There would be children who never know the pain of being abandoned and/or neglected
• Nobody would know the sting of loss
• Best Friend never would have done what he did that hurt me so deeply
• There would be far less damage and pain, if any, in the world

Yet, we all know suffering. 

We all know loss, dread, pain, disgust, pain, and the feeling of our hearts breaking.

I'm not allowed to watch the news, as per my counselor. But, it's impossible to not hear or read what is happening in the world. 

I'm not allowed to watch the news because it makes me irrationally angry. It hurts my heart. I am overwhelmed with grief for the things I cannot prevent or fix.

It's all too much to handle. Between the weight of my personal burdens, and the smothering fog of the evil in this world, there is no air to breathe.

Trial and Error

Ugh, the amount of high's and low's I experience per shift in L&D has given me a terrible case of whip lash. One shift goes great, while the very next night is absolute hell and I can't seem to do anything right.

Last night's shift was a crazy combination of both.

I admitted a patient who was there for an elective induction, but did not want any of the meds to get labor started...

Then I immediately got another pt who needed an epidural pronto and then her blood pressures bottomed out and she went from a 5 to a 10 and delivered in 1.5 hours.

About 3 hours after the delivery, as I was getting caught up on charting, my preceptor came to me and asked if I minded taking ice water into the delivered patient, and asking what they decided to name the baby since they had waited until after the birth to pick a name. I went in, asked what the name was and you know what? They named their baby after me! I was with them for a total of maybe 5 hours, missed her whole recovery because of my other pt, and they honored me by naming their baby after me. Yes, I happy cried and teared up in the room. I don't think I have ever been so honored by anyone, let alone someone that I barely knew.

I came out and sat down to chart when my other pt pressed her call light. I went in and she said she thought her water broke. Okay, so normally we are supposed to check them when that happens so that I could report to the doctor. Well, this particular doctor was planning to come in and check her and break her water about 30 minutes after when she SROM'd. So, I figured I would check her (as normal) and go let him know. Well, I got REAMED for that because apparently he likes to check his own patients when he is at the hospital. I had been told this at the beginning of my orientation, but I am still in the task-oriented phase of learning and I did what would normally be done.

I'm trying to let it roll off my shoulders and just learn for next time, but it's still frustrating to me that we bend over backwards for doctors, and yet they yell at us for something so small as a preference. Nobody was hurt, nothing bad happened, and it didn't change the course of treatment at all...

I will do it differently next time. I will do my best to remember the little nuances and remember every doctor's preferences as best I can... but I'm still going to complain about the way that we are chewed out for stupid shit every day, just because the doctor is having a bad day or likes some random things done a very specific way.



Deep breaths. He'll be mad at me for the next several weeks and I will have months of proving myself to him and the other doctors. I hate this part, but I am also the most motivated when I feel like people are expecting me to fail, so I guess we'll see how it goes. L-rd willing, I don't struggle too bad.

Bain of My Existence

I know it's stupid, but I despise weddings. Always have. I'll attend all of the funerals I'm invited to, or hear about, but weddings get automatic excuses and declines from me. I hate weddings.

With that said, Beauty from nursing school got engaged right before our pinning ceremony. It took them a long time, but her wedding was finally planned for the end of October (2017) and I just so happened to get invited... I straight up told her I probably wouldn't go. I have told her that since I've known her, so it's not like it was even a surprise. Still, she kept begging me to go.

I still regret going.

All through the ceremony I was holding back tears. The tears weren't because the wedding was beautiful, or because the bride and a billion other people were crying, or because of allergies. I was holding back tears thinking of my certainty that a wedding will not happen for me.

There is such a certainty and gravity to this understanding in my heart, I've had it since I was a little girl. I did not go to the father daughter dances. My dad and I spent time at his shop, where I kept busy with "girlier" things and dad taught Brother how to fix cars/trucks/everything under the sun.

Dad has social anxiety and probably a few other hinderances, which I don't blame him for, but they lead to an "un-normal" life for me. While my dad has always lived with my family, there is not much participation on his part. He didn't go to church, except maybe 3-5 times my whole childhood. We never expected to go to a restaurant for birthdays or special occasions because they made dad nervous and so the whole family would be stressed and not have fun. We stopped asking for participation from him, and didn't invite people over to the house, because we didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

So, from the time I was very young, maybe kindergarden or earlier, I've known that we just don't ask dad to do things that involve lots of people. Understanding that weddings involve lots of spotlight, lots of people, and a father-daughter dance, obviously this is not something that sounds plausible in my future...

As I sat in my counselor's office, sobbing uncontrollably (for other reasons that I'll explain later), I explained why I don't believe I will/can get married. I've blamed it on being undesirable, blemished from trauma, making new mistakes (again, I'll get to this), and a myriad of other reasons I've collected over the years. And I explained the wedding thing. I sat there and told her between, "I know it's stupid, and it's probably just jealousy, but I hate weddings."

I didn't look up, but I could feel the gentleness in her voice. "I don't hear jealousy in any of this. What I hear is a lot of hurt."

Now, this whole conversation started because she asked how the wedding went. This explaination of me keeping my eyes from leaking during the service previewed the terrible news that Best Friend and I went too far that night after the reception.

He and his roommate were invited because Beauty was Best Friend's neighbor in the dorms freshman year of college, and he's actually how I ended up meeting Beauty. We've all stayed in touch over the years, and Beauty just wants to have fun, so she invited tons of people to the wedding reception.

Now, I did drink that night, but not enough to black out. I was with it and remained free from stumbles or being too drunk. I couldn't have driven home, but if I had been given water and an hour, I could have driven home no problem.

"Why, then, did I wake up and not be able to remember anything?" I asked my counselor, in much different words.

After rehashing some of the events, I realized that Best Friend had started kissing me once I was back to his house after the reception. Many problems with that statement... 1) his roommate was supposed to drop me off at my house, but Best Friend had talked him into taking me back to their place because BF wanted to see if I would kiss him (after me telling him no ALL FUCKING NIGHT.) 2) I was not privy to this decision and never consulted to see what I wanted to do.

So, back at BF's house, I laid on the couch, nearly falling asleep. At some point, he came over and started to kiss me. About 2-3 weeks ago, I put an end to us kissing. I told him I was not ready for a relationship and that I needed us to go back to just being friends. Obviously that worked really fucking well because he definitely got the message loud and clear after me telling him this about 29474957 over the course of our "friendship". (That was all solid sarcasm.) I shouldn't have had to tell him that many times and he never should have tried to kiss me after me telling him no so many times in one night and over the past several weeks/years. Maybe I need to work on being meaner.

So, we ended up kissing, and he picked me up from the couch and carried me to his bed. Now, he had done this before, I told him a few times that I don't lay in boy's beds and he knows my stories of abuse. He told me he understands, and yet it happened a couple times. Chalk it up to me being naive and believing people when I shouldn't. Man, I'm an idiot.

He kissed down my stomach, which he's done before because he thinks it's funny when I push his face away and yell at him for doing that. Except, this time he was drunk and ended up touching me where he shouldn't. It was at this point, the the rest of my memories are non-existent or 1-2 seconds long. I remember hyperventilating, shoving his hand away, and crying for about 20-30 minutes. He freaked out and went to the far edge of his bed as I laid in the fetal position sobbing. He asked what he could do and what happened and I couldn't talk. I just turned away and cried. He tried to hug me and I pushed away. Finally, after 20-30 minutes, I settled enough for him to ask me what I wanted to do. I told him I wanted to go watch t.v. and sleep. We went back out to the couch and I laid down under the blanket. I don't remember much more of the night.

I do know, however, that in the morning, I knew that we had slept together. I don't know how it started, I don't think that he raped me, but my counselor says that I dissociated because of the first incident of him touching me. This whole story came out in the first 7 minutes of me sitting down in her office and she uncovered the story via questions answered by my 1-2 syllable answers or shaking/nodding my head. I have so much shame, and disgust, and despair over this stupid night.
She tells me it's not my fault because my body was just protecting me the only way it has learned how to over the course of my abuse.

Still, I can't help but wonder how I will ever explain this act of indiscretion to someone, if a guy ever decided that he wanted to date me seriously.  I had just gotten to the point where I could think about dating after 2 years of being free from exboyfriend and exfiance. After this, where it was kind of my choice, I don't know how I will recover and survive, let alone try to date and explain this to someone.

My counselor had me think about what I would tell someone else, if I were in the outside shoes and my friend were telling me their life story that was like mine. Of course I would tell that person that it wasn't their fault, that BF had taken them (me) to the police station to report the other 2 dip-shits and he should have known after the way I freaked out that I needed to not be touched. Still, I don't understand how this all happened.

I praise the L-rd for my counselor, because she spoke such healing and comfort into my life. But I still struggle with the knowledge and memories I have.

This wasn't supposed to be my life!

My counselor says that G-d was still with me through it all. But why couldn't He keep me with it enough to be able to stop it so that I didn't sin? Why wouldn't he prevent the whole mess from coming up? Why would He not just let me get dropped off at my house like I was supposed to so that I could go to sleep? Why was it that I have to be allowed to be in a position to have 1 case of trauma, let alone the whole shit-show that was my life in 2015? Then, on top of all of that, He allows this to happen because my brain automatically dissociated?!? Where was He in all of that mess? Was he standing there watching? Was He sad? Why didn't He step in? Why did He let me go through this? Why is this supposed to be stuff that I  have to struggle through? What did I do but try to follow His Word and be kind and gracious? I know I make mistakes, but why this?

I keep thinking that I'll wake up and realize the past few years, and all of these mistakes and memories are just a bad nightmare. But I keep waking up and I'm forced to survive another painful day. As soon as life starts to get tolerable again, another traumatic thing happens and I have to figure out how to try to survive past that. It's not fair. Not even a little fair.

I don't understand how some people go their whole lives and never experience trauma, and some people have shit dumped on them their whole lives. I don't understand it at all!!! How do I get off this shit-list?

Yesterday, I had another talk with Best Friend. Instead of gently suggesting that we take time so that I can have some space. I flat out told him that I need to not talk to him for weeks. He kept sending me relationship snapchats this past week, after that night. Even after a 3 hour drive where I spilled my heart out to him about how badly it hurt me and how much I hated that we slept together. He has apologized profusely for the night, but he hasn't gotten the gravity of the situation because sex is a big deal to him, but it's not a part of his faith and not a part of any abuse that he has sustained. People just don't get it. Sex is not fun for me. It's been nothing but trauma. There is a very real chance that it will never be a healthy part of my life because of the continued abuse that I have sustained. For him, it was something "special" to share with someone he "liked" or maybe thinks he "loved". For me, it was a huge set-back in my 2 year recovery and now another shameful part of my past I will have to explain.

I told BF that him sending the relationship crap "hurt my heart" and that I didn't want to see it. I told him that about 17 times. He would apologize, but continue to send another "cute" one that he found later. He just doesn't get it. If he got it, then we wouldn't be in this fucking situation to begin with because he would have fucking stopped when I freaked out and I probably wouldn't have freaked out because he wouldn't have touched me that way in the first damn place!

I wasn't angry at him until yesterday and today. At counseling, my counselor told me it was okay for me to be angry with him. At that point, I was still fully angry at only myself. Now I'm just pissed.

I was so pissed on Friday (Thursday was counseling), that I finally scheduled my appointment to go see the nurse practitioner. I'm scared that the tests will find something. I'm terrified. However, I'm so sick of being scared and not knowing. So, I'm having the results sealed in an envelope, and my counselor agreed that I could read them at my appointment with her.

Guys, please pray that my body if free of disease from the first 2 assholes, and also from Best Friend. I hate that I have to worry about this. I hate that I had to take yet another Plan B pill. I hate my life and the fact that I keep having to fucking survive another day, every day.

I'm so over it all. I just want to be done.

Annual Flu Shot

I understand the point of vaccines. Many of them save lives and provide some sort of protection from the billions of diseases that plague the earth at this point in time.

HOWEVER...

I am against mandated vaccinations for all people, and I'm against flu vaccines.

Polio is no longer killing all of our children in America each year. They say the polio vaccine got it under control and nearly eradicated it.

Flu, on the other hand, is not going to get wiped out from some dumb ass vaccine that hasn't shown proven efficacy. Getting the flu shot does not mean you are immune from the flu for that year, nor does it guarantee that you will not spread it to someone else when you do get sick.

Plus, the vaccines we get each year are fighting last year's strains and have little to do with protecting against the strains being passed around for this season. Which, makes the vaccine essentially useless. USELESS.

When hospitals mandate the flu vaccine for all of their nurses, they simply offer it to the patients. The patients can refuse with no backlash, but nurses/doctors/employees are either fired or forced to wear a surgical mask. If the flu vaccine so important, shouldn't patients be forced to protect everyone else the way nurses/doctors/employees are forced to? Should they be strong-armed into getting the fucking vaccine as well? If it's so important, that is...

I also understand that it is something that Medicare/Medicaid is forcing on hospitals saying that if they do not have over 90% of their staff receiving the flu vaccine, then the funding will be decreased, though I've heard the decrease is a mere 2%. Hey hospitals, if you take the 2% hit, I'm sure your staff would be willing to bust their assess to go raise money in the community or take a slight paycheck cut of a dollar or two. Or, like you do everything else, just up the price for all of us patients. Isn't that not how it goes when the men in the offices at the top want a raise?

I get the Tdap (redone for nursing school), I got the MMR, I got all of the Hep B and children vaccines when I was a kid, and I hope that those vaccines actually help. I didn't get measles, I didn't get mumps, I didn't die of polio, and I have not yet gotten lock jaw and died from a rusty nail. L-rd willing I don't have Hep B... I'm not turning yellow. However, the flu comes to most of us each year. They don't have a vaccine for colds... Is that next? Why not get vaccines or, better yet, cures for diseases that actually plague and kill people. Put funding into the cure for HIV/AIDS, cure herpes, cure fucking cancer! The flu vaccine is a waste of time and funding. But, that was the point, wasn't it?

It was a vaccine developed to not actually promise to eradicate any disease. It's something they could make sound really important, and make it sound like it would save millions of lives each year, while not actually having to be measured in order to prove it's worth. It's something that makes Big Pharma billions of dollars annually because they got Medicare/Medicaid on board in order to literally force and coerce every hospital into forcing and coercing all of their employees into compliance.

It's like the EpiPen bullshit where that lady jacked up the price for EpiPens from $100 to $600, for an absolutely medically necessary and life saving medicine. Where did the money go? You guessed it, most of it went into the lady's pocket in the form of a huge salary increase.

Exactly what Big Pharma is doing with mandating flu vaccines.

Where are the protests? Where are the fights? Where are the nurses who are willing to stand up and refuse this fucking vaccine? Together we could stop this, but everyone is too lazy and too scared to send in the little piece of paper to refuse the vaccine. If enough of us refused, there's no way they could fire us all. Especially for those of us in small towns, where both hospitals in the town share the same batch of nurses because most nurses have 2 jobs.

Y'all, Ontario did it! One of the nursing unions of Ontario Canada fought the flu vaccines and stated that forcing nurses to wear a mask after refusing the vaccine was a violation of patient privacy because the masks are used for shaming the employees who refuse the vaccine. Masks then lead to patient questions and harassment by other employees and doctors. *All of which I have experienced in my short time I've been a health care worker (starting with being a CNA at the Alzheimer's home)*

So now I stand on the edge of losing my job or pumping solutions into my body that I absolutely do not agree with. Solutions that have been shown to cause early onset Alzheimer's and fertility problems. Solutions that have no proven desired effects. That benefit to risk ratio is pretty abysmal.

Pure Rage

Let's start this post out nicely... I don't want any comments. I love you all, but no comments on this post. Mostly, I probably shouldn't be posting this but 1) I need to vent, 2) I'm trying to be straight with y'all about the struggles of life in case somebody out there in the virtual space of the world feels the same way, I don't want them thinking they are alone, and 3) there is too much rage, moving through my mind too quickly, for me to be able to hand-write the shit I'm feeling in a paper journal so that I can burn it later. Thus, my online outlet which you can choose to read, or not. Completely your choice. THERE WILL BE LOTS OF CURSE WORDS USED THROUGHOUT!!! Are they necessary? Not usually, but every once in awhile it is absolutely required. Right now, just know that this post will be long, and it could be about half the length if I didn't use so much profanity.

*****PROCEED WITH CAUTION*****ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK*****

No. I should be screaming these things from entirety of my being, into a canyon somewhere, where nobody can hear me, where I later collapse into a ball of a shell of a girl who's merely trying to hang on in a world where she doesn't belong living a life she does not understand at all.

Let's also preface this by saying that for the past several days, I'm in one of my moods. Yes, I have several moods that rotate throughout my days. None of them are really actually good. Some have "good" moments, I suppose, but I cannot find the good in my life. Present mood: contemplating the purpose of existence and how my life fits in with the plan of creation. I've been feeling dissociated and in a haze for the last week and a half also. I felt that necessary to point out as well.

Another nursing school buddy got married, I think today. Which, btw, is an odd day to have a legit wedding, seeing as it's Monday. But I digress and continue on with my ridiculously long post about things I've said in the past but am still mulling over in my obviously not healed mind...

Another girl got married. Now, I am happy for her, I truly am. She was a great girl, she's super smart, and she's been with this guy for a long time. She wasn't pressuring him to get married or engaged, and she seems relatively grounded.

I'm upset at the death of my future. I'm upset that my dreams of a future, and what I wanted for dating and marriage didn't even have a fucking shot at happening because two assholes decided that my wishes are not worth honoring. I'm fucking pissed that I didn't get a say. I'm enraged that nobody is fighting for me and that nothing will come of the pain I've been forced to survive. Can G-d handle it? Absolutely. Is He not the one who is in charge of revenge and setting wrongs right? He absolutely is! That's not what I'm saying. I don't even know what I'm saying any more but I know I'm upset.

The hand of tragedy and trauma is dealt randomly, I think. I don't know, maybe it's not. Maybe we are predestined to be forced to live through shitty circumstances that make us want to die on a daily basis, but somehow we're supposed to see how long we last before saying that we've had enough and throwing in the towel. Maybe, somehow, we're paying for the sins we've committed, or the sins that some person in our family tree committed a hundred years in the past. Maybe our suffering is somehow part of some atonement process that doesn't actually atone for anything because our suffering can pay for no sin or mistakes, but we still have to go through that. I DON'T FUCKING KNOW! I do know, however, that even though I sin, I don't know what mistakes justify a person having to live through fucking trauma, rape, incest, domestic abuse, emotional abuse, gas lighting, constant ragging, the death of innocent people who have done nothing wrong, or any other trauma. Most trauma makes no fucking sense. Most of it has no noticeable purpose, no rhyme, no reason, nothing! Nothing! NOTHING!

Why, then, are we still having to live through such things. More importantly, why do some people go through life without ever experiencing trauma, or major life troubles, while others get clobbered around every FUCKING CORNER???!!!!!??? I'm not saying I'm necessarily one of them, but 3 people resulting in more traumas than I can count in a year and a half is a little fucking excessive to me.

I don't know, maybe that's just me. Eventually, I'll get over it. Except not. No. This shit never goes away until the day my heart stops and I get to be done. Perhaps then I will be free from these hellish memories and the pains that stab me in the chest. Hopefully, someday, I will be cut loose of the chains that bring me back to my pits of despair when I think of the beautiful wedding night I wanted, the dreams of being STD/STI free with no doubts in my mind about my status in that area, and I will put to rest my living nightmares that play over and over in my head, constantly. Did I have a choice of having a beautiful wedding night? No. Can I know for certain right now that I am presently STD/STI free? I have no fucking clue and I get panic attacks daily thinking that I may have one and not knowing. Yes, I can go get tested, but I'm still just not ready to drag myself to my death sentence just yet. Will I ever be free from these nightmare memories that run on loops in my brain? Not until the day I die or the day somebody develops an amnesia treatment that only lets you erase certain memories. Honestly, I'm not holding my breath for that treatment, but the end of my days is rapidly approaching, I'm sure.

You know what's hilarious to me, though? (Now, keep with me because that was solid fucking sarcasm). I have watched over 5 stand-up comedians over the past couple of hours that are on Netflix and all of them make jokes about rape and molestation within the first 5-10 minutes. 

Back to being serious, there is absolutely nothing funny about rape, molestation, incest, sexual assault, domestic abuse, beating your wife/husband/girlfriend/boyfriend/child/parent/etc. There is nothing funny about abuse, at all! There's nothing funny about PTSD, war, slavery, or any other things like that. What bugs me the most, is that people who have never fucking lived in my damn shoes is going to make jokes about my life being ruined because the act that cause my life to be ruined is apparently funny to them. It's hilarious to them! The whole crown erupts with laughter when these people make these jokes! It makes my blood boil, it sends me into immediate flashbacks every time, and then I look at how our society deals with such troubling topics and the lack of sentencing and punishments make sense. My life makes less and less sense, but it makes sense that the fucking statistics grows for the events of rape that occur each day because it's all just a joke. 

My suffering is a joke. It's something I have to keep hush hush, because it bums people out. Nobody wants to hear my woes. I'm just regretful of allowing the guys to enter my body, because I let them do it. I must have wanted them to do it. My response to that: NOBODY WANT TO BE FUCKING RAPED!!! NOBODY WANTS THEIR LIFE TO BE RUINED AT THE HANDS OF SOME ASSHOLE WITH A FUCKING PENIS BECAUSE THEY FEEL THEY HAVE A RIGHT TO ENTER MY BODY. NOBODY WANTS CONSTANT WORRIES ABOUT THEIR STD/STI STATUS WHEN THEY HAD WANTED TO REMAIN VIRGIN, OR EVEN IF THEY WERE WILLING TO HAVE SEX AT SOME POINT, THE ONE TIME THAT THEY SAY NO AND THE GUY DOES NOT RESPECT THAT, THERE IS TRAUMA. SOMETHING, IN THAT PICTURE, IS NOT RIGHT.

What's so hard to understand about that? Apparently, it about as difficult as rocket science to understand... for many people who have never experienced rape, sexual assault, abuse, or any of the other many listed things already mentioned, or one of the hundreds of things I never even mentioned because there is too much!!! There's too much.

What has rape cost me? It's cost me: friends, family, sanity, sleep, good dreams, peace, any hope of love, joy, gladness in my adult life, excitement for post-graduation happenings, hope of having children, and my future, among other things.

I'm angry that some people live such beautiful, wonderful, sweet, amazing lives while I'm stuck in this. I'm overwhelmed at the constant waves of shit washing over me. I hate that just when I start to feel like I'm doing better, I get bombarded again with my hellish reality. I hate that I don't feel worthy of a happy life, and I feel guilty even, for what has happened, even though I can rationalize the events as me not being at fault for the actions that took place.

While most girls my age are dreaming of their futures, I'm sitting here wondering what I have done to deserve such shit. I wonder why it is that I'm here, what purpose my life plays in the Grand Scheme of things. Mostly, I'm left feeling overwhelmed at the magnitude of evil rising up around me on every side. I am suffocated by the fears of what a health check would bring. My past haunts me and chases my happiness away. The simple joys of life are completely lost on me, and I'm simply treading water in the middle of the biggest, stormiest ocean in the universe. I find myself praying that 1) I am free of disease and health complications and 2) that my life ends soon and that somehow, somebody remembers me with fondness.

I've been thinking about all the people I've lost in my life. They didn't die, most of them haven't, but they've left me or I've left them for various reasons. If my former friends heard I died, or came across my obituary, would they say I got what I had coming? Would they be glad I was gone because they didn't like me? Would they be sad at how things ended? Would they mourn the loss or get over it quickly by saying "Oh, that's sad. Was it suicide?" Would they come to a funeral, if there was one, or would they visit my grave and visit/yell at me the way I do with Country Boy? Would they remember me for being sweet, kind, and dreaming of a bright future? Or will they recall my bipolar, my grouchiness, and the way in which I made them upset by enforcing boundaries and refusing to take their shit. Would they ask how I died, prying for if my death were self-inflicted? Or would they hope that suddenly, my troubles were gone and I no longer lived with the shame and pain and scars this life has given to me. What would my obituary say? Who would even read it? How could my family even invite anyone to my funeral? Nobody would come except family, and then friends supporting my family. I would have no friends there because there is nobody left.

Does my life even make a difference? For anyone? (All rhetorical questions, you don't need to comment.)?




So what is the point of my sufferings? What is the point of anyone's sufferings? I know I'm not the only in pain over the hand this life has dealt. Of the numerous times I was supposed to die over the course of my life, from the time I was conceived until now, why was I not allowed to just fucking die??? I could have died free of pain. I could have died pure. I could have died and not even experienced the fight of life. Instead, I was kept alive. I keep having to be kept alive. I keep having to fight another day and suffer through.

I know the Good L-rd provides. He provides for my needs, my happiness, my joy, and everything good in this universe and beyond. He gives every good things. I know He gets me through the trauma, He gets me through the night, and He keeps me alive for another day. What I don't know, and what I don't understand, is why the hell I cannot just go ahead and cease breathing so I can be put out of my misery? Why can my heart not just take a permanent break and allow me to slip away? What is the purpose of allowing me to continue to suffer with the after-math of the consequences of sin. Not even just my sin! I'm suffering from the consequences of other people's sins too!!! Shit like this happens every day. Not so good people suffer no issues, while others suffer for personal sins as well as for the sins of the not so good people.



I keep feeling compelled to start working on forgiveness so I can try to move on. I think it's from the L-rd. I want to be ready to do that. I want to be ready to shoulder the pain and move on, but right now, the baggage is too heavy to be able to move away from anger and head towards full forgiveness. I don't know what I'm supposed to do.

I deal with being scared of what problems I have with health and my mental well-being on a daily basis. I fear the future because I see little chance of my story ending well any time soon. I know I'm not supposed to worry about the future, because what will I change by worrying about the future? Nothing. However, a happy, good future will take a billion and five miracles and I feel that's just too excessive for one person to be given in a lifetime. It doesn't matter what I feel I deserve or don't, it's ultimately up to G-d. I have no say. I'm just saying that statistically, the odds are not in my favor and I long for release from my pains and struggles bestowed upon me in this life.

I'm tired. I'm going to bed.

Can't Run From Your Past

When I told people about my plans to leave Home State, if they new my story, they would tell me that running away from my problems would not fix them. They always told me that my past will follow me wherever I go.

You know what? I have memories and things that come up with with everyday life, but I'm not constantly bombarded with everything I was hit with in Home State, especially in the town where I went to school (where the assaults happened).

Today is a rough day. The memories won't let up, but it's because I'm processing some bad news about one of my cases.

You know what? The legal system sucks when trying to actually get justice. I get that you have to have evidence and proof and whatnot, but seriously the amount of rapists that actually get charged compared to the number of rapes that happen is absolute garbage! No fucking wonder there is a huge number of people (men, women, or children) that are raped every single day. You wanna know why this damn rate is so high? Because the assholes that refuse to keep their appendages to themselves know the law. They know what to do in order to get away with their evil actions. They know that if you are drugged and don't remember the night, then nothing can be done to charge them, unless a witness watches everything that happens and catches the rapist in the act. They know to keep victims away from anyone else because that makes all of their assaults a case of "he-said-she-said" which makes their word just as reliable as the victim's, unless recorded and able to be used for proof.

Honestly, this world is so worried about being politically correct and not stepping on anyone's toes, that it's gotten to the point that nobody can be trusted and justice is unattainable. I know that the only one who can provide justice and truly fix anything is G-d. I don't believe that this is necessarily the end of the road, because He judges and punishes as He sees fit. Maybe one or both of these assholes that destroyed my life are sorry. Maybe they truly regret what they did, are remorseful, and have decided to apologize and ask for forgiveness to the L-rd. Maybe they think I'm over-reacting and think they've done nothing wrong. Maybe, they (or at least one of them), is truly evil and looks to further traumatize girls because he gets a kick out of it.

Who knows? Maybe they will never receive punishment, never feel sorry, never understand the extent to which they have caused harm to another living being. Maybe someday there will be showers of fire and brimstone. I don't know! I know nothing of the future. G-d might not want to punish them at all or maybe He does. Nobody can know.

I'll be honest with you, I pray for justice. I pray that somehow, these wrongs are made right and that I can have peace. I realize that one can have peace without justice being served, and I pray that I am able to come to a resolution regardless of whether judgement and punishment are served.

 *sigh*

So, today I struggle but I am on my way to a support group. I pray I find friends who can help me here. I pray I find ladies who can help me walk this rough road that I am being held prisoner on. All I can do is keep marching on as slow or as fast as it requires. I desperately need a bridge to a different path. I need a different road, a different direction, a different life. However, that's not how it works, so here I go...

on my way...




I have no clue where I'm going... 

Legit Panic Attack

I was taking a shower today, after running around my house getting everything in it's place, when I started being bombarded with memories. Bad memories.

I started asking G-d, "Why me? What did I do? How is this my lot in life? Why do I have to deal with this? Why did you not just let me die?" etc., etc.

About two questions in, I could feel my heart pounding, breath getting shallow and quick, eyes went into tunnel vision. I felt like I was going to pass out, but I couldn't calm the anger and the hurt. The next 30 minutes consisted of me yelling, praying, sobbing, shaking, hyperventilating, and shaving my legs... all at the same time. How do I manage to be such a great multi-tasker? I have no idea.

I keep thinking about what I want to say, in case my reports ever go to trial. I want to say so much, but I know I will freeze on the stand and my brain will freeze if I begin to draft my victim impact statements now but boy, can I scream everything I need to say when I'm in the shower!

Exboyfriend's town called a couple days ago telling me they had gotten a report from College Town that I had been sexually assaulted (raped) in their town. College town had no jurisdiction in Exboyfriend's town and so it had to be transferred.

I've been dealing with that for a week. At first I was nervous about how this would effect him, then I remembered how much his actions have effected me and my whole life. He forever changed the course of my life with his poor choices that weekend. Oh, I wish I would have kicked him, fought him, and called the cops right then. Unfortunately, I was completely in shock. I was paralyzed and in a daze that whole weekend.

Because of Exboyfriend, I met Exfiance. He didn't introduce me, but I was going out a lot, looking for a good time to get away from the terrors living and replaying themselves in my head constantly.

It's crazy to think that one person can make you hate yourself. They can make you hate your body, your memory, your life, and hate the fact that you wake up each morning to fight another losing battle of a day. They can make you hate yourself enough that you stop feeding your body, you start taking pills, smoking, cutting, or otherwise abusing the very vessel that holds the essence of who you are. One person's choices can make you fight to not pick up the bottle, not down the pills, not pull the trigger, and not crash into a ditch.

So now, I am here. A shell of who I used to be. I can never me back. I can never have the same ability to see the best in people. I can never have the same easy smile and no assumptions that people are only out to hurt me. I can never feel pure, whole, and complete. I can never erase the memories. Who knows if I have some disease that I won't be able to get rid of in addition to the rest of it.

It makes me wonder why we, as a collective people, fight so hard to keep people from suicide. Not saying I would do it, but I understand what it is like for me to not want to wake up another day. Why do we insist on saving those who so clearly see no point in being here on this earth? Why do we call the police if someone is talking about suicide at home/work or place patients on a 72-hour hold at hospitals if they come to us saying they want to die? Why do we put people on antidepressants? Which can potentially make the suicidal ideations worse and help give the people enough energy to go through with the suicide. If people are so miserable with the hand they were dealt or produced for themselves, why are we holding them earth side?

This doesn't mean that I don't support getting professional help and trying to reach out to those having a hard time, but why make people live if they have no quality of life and are sick of being here? There is not a day that goes by that I don't wish that I could have helped Country Boy, but if there was a chance for him to have been able to reach out for help, he didn't extend that plea to me. He had a plan and he carried it out. For him, there was no use in living in a world without his dad. He had too much pain to bear on his own and he couldn't figure out how to share it. Meanwhile, I have a lot of pain (in my own opinion) and even with sharing it, I feel I am constantly drowning. Today, with my panic attack, it showed that my head is no longer staying above the water. The stress of reporting, painful memories, moving, not being able to work, having bills that I cannot pay, and stress I can't even describe is overwhelming me.

It's so hard to surrender your anxieties to the L-rd when your life is stripped from your grasp. It's so hard to ask for help when nobody can hear you from the depths of your chasm. I know I have no control over my life, but I feel like I'm in a car with a sleeping, drunk driver and the car is swerving on it's own. However, the ride sucks so badly I hope it crashes soon so that the drive will come to an end, I don't even care about making it to wherever I thought we were headed.

So Beyond Frustrated

In this, the modern day where people can communicate across the world via email in a matter of seconds, New State decided that it still wants to operate in the Stone Ages.

About a month ago, I completed all steps on New State's board of nursing website in order to be able to get my attestation to test (go-ahead to schedule my NCLEX) and the one bit I had to have the school send, I talked to the lady and had her send it.

Fast forward to two weeks ago...

I received my copy of the school's paper (it's a form from the university letting the board of nursing know that I have, in fact, graduated the accredited nursing program) which was sent to me the same time it was sent to the board of nursing. I got it a couple days later and figured the board of nursing probably received it at about that time as well. The website says I have to wait 10 business days for it to be processed.

Fast forward to last friday...

I called the board of nursing and waited on hold for an hour!!! This wait simply allowed me to talk to a girl telling me to wait a couple more days until the 10 days had happened because they "probably received it, but haven't put it in the system yet". Okay, fine.

Fast forward to this Tuesday...

I checked online, as I had for the past two weeks, but still nothing had come through. Okay, maybe day #10 was too soon, I'll wait another day.

Wednesday...

Nothing.

Jump to today (Thursday)...

I called three times and was hung up on by the automated answering service because the call lines were "too busy at this time." What?! That's ridiculous! Why are there not more people employed here? I have to talk to somebody and figure this out. I've got a job that is waiting on me, no money, bills to pay. Now I have credit card debt, and no income because I'm waiting on the damn state to process a piece of paper...

I called a fourth time and it finally went through. Waited 20 minutes on hold while looking on the website for another number, any number, to get me through to a different phone line.



That's when I found it. I found a number to a specific person's phone line and when I called, he picked up right away! After about a 5 minute explanation of my current situation, mentioning the fact I had waited about 15 business days when the website says only 10, and I have a job waiting, the gentleman gave me about 10 excuses. One of them being that the department that processes graduates is currently "understaffed" and only 1-2 people working there on any given day. I remained kind and calm but in my head I was wondering why on earth they don't hire more people for that damn job. I get that 1-2 people are processing ALL of the paperwork for ALL of the applications that come through their state, but they know that graduations happen at least 2 times a year. You guys know this, why are you not banning vacations and hiring more people for these seasons so that the massive influx in paperwork doesn't make you get backed up all damn year? And why, oh why, are we still processing papers instead of emails??? Guys, we can make this easier for everybody if you'd just change things up a little bit and think things through better. Good heavens!

Whatever, he continued on (without me saying a word) and told me that he was sorry for the wait and that he would take my name, number, and a description of the problem down to that department and have them get in touch with me.

An hour later I received a call, from a girl down in the processing department, telling me that she couldn't find the letter/envelope/MY PAPERWORK.

Oh my gosh, I'm gonna lose it. I've been waiting for 3 fucking weeks and somewhere along this medieval process, I'm the one that got lost. Why when I have all my ducks in a row, I bust my butt to have everything on my end complete and I have a job waiting on me, does the process breakdown and cause me a boatload of extra stress that's completely unnecessary. I'm one of 2 people, out of about 60 nursing students who graduated in my class, who has not scheduled or been approved to take the NCLEX. The other girl is waiting, on purpose, because she doesn't have the money at this particular time. The other students don't all have jobs yet, but they've already taken and passed their NCLEX. Why did my form get lost? Why am I having to wait???

And what makes it even better, I emailed the only lady at my school that is able to send of that paper and she is on vacation until the 28th of June (about 4-5 days away). So, it'll take at least a week, probably more because she has a lot of emails backing up while she's gone, before she even gets my email. Then another few days to get the form situated and sent via snail mail. From then it'll take about a week to get to New State's board of nursing where I get to wait another 10+ business days for it to be processed.

At that rate, I'll be jobless for another month. I have no money. My parent's don't have $2000 to lend me for my July bills and I don't know what the hell to do. The board won't accept the copy that came to me from the school because their copy has to come "straight from the school." It can't be faxed or emailed because the board of nursing requires that the form be embossed with the nursing school's stamp in raised stampage form.

I'm so irritated. I don't know what to do or how to fix this because everything is literally out of my control. All I can do is wait on other people who seem to be taking their sweet time. I told the board and the lady at my school that I already have a job and I'm only waiting on them but that doesn't seem to help. Hell, at this rate I will fly back to Home State, pick up the sealed envelope myself, fly back down to New State and hand deliver the damn thing and watch them put it in the system that very moment JUST SO I CAN START WORKING! THIS IS RIDICULOUS!

You may be thinking, "Bedpan Alley, maybe G-d is working this out for a particular reason! Maybe He is working on your patience! Maybe He is trying to get you to trust Him to provide and He does everything in His own time for His glory!!!" Yes, dear reader, I understand all of these things. Someday soon, I pray that I will get to update you all with excellent news saying that everything is situated and I get to start working. For the time being, I'm frustrated and angry that I was the one to fall through the cracks. I'm losing my mind from the stress of not being able to work for 1) I'm so excited to begin my job taking care of babies, 2) to have something to do with my time, 3) socialization, 4) money to pay my bills, and 5) to have something to do with my time!!! I don't handle extended periods of down-time well and I haven't worked since Christmas of 2015. Guys, it's June of 2016, and almost July. That's nearly 7 months without work and at least 2 months without even having school.

Guys, pray with me for a miracle here. I need it.

Painful Memories

Tomorrow marks the anniversary of ex-boyfriend's first assault on me. A year ago, I was excited on this night. It was a Friday, I believe and I was probably at his new house watching a movie with him. Actually, he went to bed early so we were probably back in his bed, falling asleep or already sleeping by now.

He didn't try to touch me this night. I was still blissfully ignorant of the danger lurking within him.

The most he probably did was try to grab my butt or my boobs while he made out with me. I was uncomfortable sleeping in his bed, but he wouldn't let me sleep out on the couch. I was also dumb enough to believe that sleeping over would be okay. I was naive enough to believe that I was safe with him.



I've been wrestling with terrible thoughts in my head. For as long as I can remember, I was told to love those who hurt you and hate nobody but Satan.

I've been struggling to wrap my head around the evil that was done to my body and the fact that these guys think that they did nothing wrong.

I have been struggling to keep my mind from saying that "I hate them."

I hate what they've done to me. I hate that they have no fucking clue that my life is ruined. I hate that if the news ever got out that they did these things to me, nobody will believe me and they will blame me for making up stories. I hate that the law is on their side in this backwards legal system. I hate that they will likely have no punishment because what could potentially happen in the best case scenario for me or worst case scenario for them? NOTHING! Absolutely, fucking nothing.

Justice is bullshit. The legal system is not working for victims, it helps nobody but those who have broken the law. So, what's the point in reporting? There is none.


I'm so fucking over this shit. I can't sleep. My mind is being bombarded with the evil acts these assholes have done to me. The only comfort I have is absolutely nothing. There is no comfort. There is no justice. There is nothing I, or anyone, can do to right these wrongs.

L-rd, give me peace and comfort in the coming months as all of my anniversaries come to bombard me and swallow me whole. Quiet my heart and give me restful sleep. Allow me to somehow forget these evil guys. Somehow, in the coming judgement, bring me justice, oh L-rd. Give me something to tell me that the suffering I have unfortunately survived this last year is not in vain. Oh L-rd, redeem me and punish those who have wronged me and invaded my body. Ad-nai, forgive my past trangressions and remember what has happened. L-rd, remember those who love you and deliver me from the evil bestowed upon me.

Why was this given to me? What did I do that warranted that type of punishment? Or, what kind of sick test was that?!? WHY???



Ironically, tomorrow's pediatric lecture is on childhood abuse and will most likely mention sexual assault because that seems to be a popular topic in that stupid class. As such, I am not going. I refuse to go. The peds instructor makes sick jokes about rape, suicide, abuse, and other "hot button" topics that immediately make me cry. How will I handle such topics from now on? I will just refuse to go to class! Fuck you, lady. L-rd willing, you've never lived through these terrible things. As someone who survived multiple suicide attempts, is living through grieving a friend's suicide, having been abused by boyfriends, and raped by two separate guys on numerous occasions, YOU HAVE NO PLACE TO TALK!!!

No decent person makes jokes about abuse, rape, or suicide. Don't fuck with those topics. If you have to talk about them, and I think it's important to discuss them, then you treat them with the respect and seriousness they deserve. Get people who are experts and who are tender to the issues to come and teach the lecture, if that is required.

Don't fucking mess with me and don't tell me you know when you don't lady (peds professor and Jersey.)

Some of you, out there in the blog-o-sphere, unfortunately understand the pain of living through traumatic events. Though we have not lived the same life, I am sorry for your suffering. We can't fully comprehend each others pain and journey, but I know what it is like to live my trauma and I am sorry for anyone who has to live through their own. For anything you've been through, I am, from the bottom of my heart, sorry.

For those of you who haven't, I am so very glad that you haven't. I do not wish this on anyone. Having said that, please do not tell those of us who are survivors of trauma that you know what we are going through. If you say anything, tell us that you are sorry and then slap that pity look right off your face. We don't need pity. We are still a person, just like anyone else. Unfortunately, we were dealt a hand in life where we were forced to be a bit stronger than the average person. That does not mean we need pity. Giving us that fucking pity look and babying us after we tell you only makes the situation worse. Don't distance yourself from us or treat us differently besides avoiding the triggers we ask you to avoid. Besides that, treat us normally, but silently give us more patience as we heal.

Regrets and Learning

If y'all recall, I "broke up" with Jersey.

For the past couple of days I have been struggling with the decision because of her haunting words of, "karma is a bitch."

Today, class was a bit uncomfortable, but not as bad as it has been while waiting for her to come and attack me.

Tonight I went out with Millie and we got on the subject. Millie is in a clinical group with Jersey and I guess Jersey went to a simulation lab after our "break up" and was crying the whole time. She was venting to another classmate when Millie walked by them in the hall. She ended up staying and heard all that Jersey had to say. Jersey said she felt attacked, and then started listing off my many faults and why she felt I was being unreasonable.

This is understandable.

I agree that the timing was wrong. Thinking back on the situation, I should have probably scheduled it for a different time, but I don't know when else I could have done it and I can't fix that now.

Talking with Millie gave me no comfort. I still feel terrible. I feel like I somehow embodied everything that hurt me in Jersey's personality, my old Roommate, and the girls I lived with freshman year. I somehow turned into the mean girl that I have despised and worked so hard to get away from all these years.

I hate myself for that.

I keep second guessing myself and my decision. I feel like I am absolutely crazy and that I made a huge mistake. Regardless of how I try to rationalize it, I simply cannot fix the situation in my head and I feel really bad.

This brings me to a huge conundrum... In the future, do I ignore when friends are dumping on me, and turn the other cheek? In these relationships, the friendship usually ends up phasing out gradually as I go to less and less gatherings with them and do not talk with them as much. OR Do I continue to stand up for myself and leave a path of destruction, hurt feelings, and people in tears? This option allows me to have my thoughts and feelings heard, but I feel bad and I become more stressed than if I just let it ride and take the yelling.

I don't know whether to apologize or accept that she needed to hear what I had to say. People complain about these things behind her back a lot, but nobody every tells her these things. Granted, I do not like being assertive and I do not think that it works on me. It doesn't fit.



I had too many good days in a row. Today was decidedly a nice day, up until about 5 p.m. tonight when my brain decided to remind me that it was Country Boy's birthday. I shared a shot with him and then went out to drinks with Millie. Beauty ended up coming, too, but not until way later.

Thing is, I'm having a lot of troubles with Beauty lately. She continues to ignore my texts, though I don't text about complaints. When I text her, it's to invite her out or let her know that some assignment is due or to simply say something nice. She responds to maybe 1 out of every 5-10 that I send her. Meanwhile, she tells me that Lexi complains to her all the time about me. This means that they are probably hanging out quite a bit. That's good, they need to be able to hang out with friends. I'm just getting frustrated with the fact that I am being ignored, but I'm the first one to be called when there is something wrong and they are having troubles with their car, school, or life.



What would happen if I were to die? Would anyone miss me?

I'm not someone that anyone tries to go out of their way to hang out with, by I am on speed dial for literally any issue that arises.

It's okay to ignore me, but you better believe I am expected to respond to every text within a couple minutes of receiving it.

I'm just another body in a seat until someone has a question about what happened in class.

I'm just some girl that is expected to take a whole load of shit when someone is having a bad day. Heaven forbid I need to vent to anyone but my mom! I have to just take the dumping, with a smile on my face, then go about fixing all of the person's problems even if the problems weren't actually my fault to begin with.

If I were to die one night and didn't show up for class for a couple of days, would anyone notice? Would Beauty regret the texts she ignored? Would Jersey regret unloading all of her life frustrations on a friend who she knew was fresh out of a break-up and had been recently traumatized? What would Millie do? How would my friends from the Farm Store that I worked at as a first job respond? Would any of the girls that I went to elementary school even think twice if my name were in an obituary? Would my seat simply be an open seat in the back, or would it then be looked upon with any flicker of sadness?

Would anyone even notice?

How would I be remembered?

Would it be for the awkwardness I show everyday? For my clumsiness? My traumatic couple of years? How I have pissed people of left and right through college? For the struggles I talked about with my couple of people who sat next to me? For being the "quiet" girl in clinical?

Would I be remembered at all?

Another Damn Birthday

My birthday is tomorrow. I'll turn 22.

In the past, I have avoided people knowing my birthday because I didn't want anyone making a big deal about it. From that stemmed my own little personal game of my friends not knowing what day my birthday is and avoiding working the day before/day of/and day after my birthday. These have just been traditions I have kept for years.

Last year, I was very open about my birthday because I turned 21 and wanted people to come out and celebrate with me! In the U.S., for those of you outside, 21 is the legal drinking age. As you can imagine, this warrants a bit of celebrating.

Well, fast forward to this year and my birthday is now a day of mourning. I think about last year and how excited I was. I had lots of friends coming out to celebrate with me, I had a boyfriend who was still treating me well, I was getting through school and I had just survived Country Boy's first anniversary. His first anniversary went much better than this year's, though. I had a drink for him that night, but mostly I was just young and excited. I thought my life was turning more exciting and could only get better.

I was so terribly wrong.

Come back to the present with me, and let's mull over why my birthday is now a day of mourning...

• My body has been assaulted in the most intimate ways, by two separate asshole guys, more times than I can count.
• Country Boy is still gone and his death anniversary is right before my birthday so I am still recovering from that grief again.
• My friends are all busy so I could stay in bed, but the couple of friends that are not busy and that know my birthday is tomorrow are not letting me stay in my bed.
• I'll never be the girl I was a year ago. For that, I mourn the most.

I miss her. People say I can get her back, but those people have also never been through what I've been through. She was kind, excited about life, and always willing to help. Her, I can get back. She had also never experienced more trauma than a friend's suicide. She had memories, but not intense flashbacks. She was mourning, but it was reasonable and normal, especially for the trauma associated with surviving a friend's suicide.

Go back to the year I turned 19, and I miss her even more. No suicide. Best Friend liked me and we hung out all the time. I was in the dorms and was around friends as much as I wanted to be, all I had to do was walk down the hall. I thought it was a great victory going the entire day with nobody knowing it was my birthday, especially living in such a short proximity to my friends. Then, at about 10 p.m., while hanging out with Best Friend talking, I spilled the beans. He gave me a hug and got a little bit upset that I hadn't told him sooner. I was so excited for everything! I was about to get into nursing school, I was looking at apartments and making life plans. I was confident and excited that a guy liked me and spent so much time with me. I had just gotten away from the most toxic roommates I have ever met and I was living by myself. School was going well and the world was still a bright and shiny place ready for my stamp on it and the adventures that were sure to come my way.

Come back to the present and I don't want to see the future. I'm convinced nothing good can make me be able to heal fully from my past. I don't want to meet a guy and start dating because then I have to tell him I'm not pure and I'm not what he wants. He'd have to deal with my PTSD, my whole shitty season of every year from March until the end of July, and if we ever had kids I've got so many risk factors for being a terrible mom that it's not even worth attempting to survive pregnancy and a birth because that poor kid would have no fighting chance at a good life.

Of course, it is impossible to explain this to friends They don't understand and I pray they never understand this pain. I pray they have all the happiness in the world. Mine was stolen, but may they know nothing but happiness. May they keep the sparkle in their eyes and their love of life. I hope this for all of you as well.

For those of you that have been through trauma, I am so sorry. I am sorry for all of your losses. While losses include the deaths and the loss of people, remember that it also means the loss of your sense of identity, body integrity, and anything else that you have lost that hits you hard. Yes, it is okay to mourn the loss of who you once were if that was taken, hurt, and otherwise damaged. I am sorry for your loss, as I am sorry for mine. Though I don't know exactly how you feel, because we all perceive and feel things differently and circumstances are always a little bit different, know that I understand it is painful beyond words.

So, tomorrow is my birthday. It is a solemn occasion and a day of mourning. I survived Country Boy's 2nd anniversary and everything that could have gone wrong going wrong with that. Here's to hoping I survive tomorrow, if I must.

It'll Never End

As mentioned in my last post, my day began at about 3 this morning. Not pleasant.

I made it through the sim lab and my group did really well. The instructors were surprised and kept saying they didn't think we would do so well because my group wasn't very interactive on Monday during the skills lab... I think it was supposed to be a compliment but it came off terribly. Whatever, we rocked it and now I'm done with that.

All day, Country Boy has been on my mind. All week, in fact. This morning, before hopping in my shower, I went back and looked at some pictures of him. A few tears fell, but I'm still too overwhelmed in my life to be able to cry much. I went through sim lab and my brain was not working. People kept talking to me and I couldn't even focus. I saw their lips moving, but I couldn't hear anything.

Last night exfiance called me 3 times... They didn't ring through, because I blocked him. However, I woke up at 1:30 a.m. wondering why my phone was lit up, but I decided to ignore it. At 3, when I woke up for sure, I saw the little symbol for voice mail. I was confused, wondering why anyone needed to leave me a voice mail so early in the morning and I panicked wondering if it was family or a friend who needed me. Nope. It was exfiance. I didn't listen to his message because I was scared he would have called me and left a voice mail while he was pretending to die or while he committed suicide just because he knew how badly Country Boy's death affected me. Sick thought process, I know, but he's done terrible things to me and he messes with my head. If you go through something like that (and I pray you never do and never have), you begin to wonder what kind of bullshit they are going to unleash on you this time.

I waited until my roommate woke up, and then I told her about it. She offered to listen to the message to screen it for me. Essentially, it said everything his 9 text messages from Easter said to me. Again, those too were blocked and I didn't get them until a day or two after Easter Sunday.

I didn't listen to the voice mail until my lunch break between simulations today. I went out to my car and listened to all 3 fucking minutes of the bullshit message. The messages (voice mail and texts) went to the effect that he has been attending the church I go to for the last month. He says he wants me to go see him at church and sit with him... He says he's changed and that I'm amazing and all this bullshit. Seriously, he told me I brought him back to the L-rd. What the fuck?!?

Honestly, I hope he did find the L-rd but I don't believe him at all. I don't believe a fucking word he uttered the entire time I've ever known him. I don't believe any of the nice things, I don't believe any of the crazy stories, I don't believe the apologies, or anything else he ever said. I don't. So, you can go pound sand fucker. Leave me the hell alone. STOP TRYING TO TALK TO ME!!!

So sick of it.

After sim was done and I was driving home, I was barely keeping the tears from falling. I was handling myself until I saw his truck. Not Country Boy's, not exfiance's... the other one. I saw exboyfriend's truck passing me on my way home. Fuckin' A. Of course, this is going to happen on one of my shittiest days. He works on the exact opposite side of town. Why the fuck is he on my way home?!?

I lost it. The tears started, my panic attack began in earnest, and my brain shut down with that last straw. It was the last straw to break my mind from how it had been dealing with all of the overwhelming nonsense I had been dealing with all day. Seeing exbf's truck is what did me in.

I got home and Roomie asked how I was doing. My chin and voice began quivering as I told her the extremely shortened and condensed version of the shit I survived today. She stood there quietly and told me she was sorry. She suggested I go climb into bed and watch a movie or take a nap. My beautifully happy and cheery roommate didn't know what to do. She doesn't know what to do when I don't even know how to handle my life circumstances. I don't blame her.

She left a few minutes later for work and her dog followed me into my room. I collapsed on my bed crying because I was finally done with the shit show that was my day. Oh my goodness, the dog flipped out! She jumped on my bed, started licking my face and acting all frantic. She licked me and tried to climb in my lap (she's 50 lbs) for a solid 10 minutes, as the tears streamed down my face. She kept making me pet her and push her from my face because she was taking away my tears. She jumped down, ran out of my room, but returned about 30 seconds later and began barking at me! She put her front two paws on my bed and started barking and whining at me in her scared bark. I pulled myself together, stopped crying and then the dog left my room. I don't know what else happened, but my eyes opened about an hour and a half later, and I didn't know where I was or what time it was. I woke up another hour and a half after that in the same condition, but laid in bed answering my 9 text messages that had accumulated, as I stared at my ceiling for an hour.

I don't know how to explain times like this, but when I have a bad enough day, I can stay in bed and stare at the wall or ceiling for hours with no thoughts going through my head. I snap out of it a couple hours later, but it only felt like 5 minutes at the most. No thoughts, no emotion, no ability to move my body. I legitimately shut down all the way and can do absolutely nothing.

Days like this, I don't even need alcohol. I know that on a day like today, drinking would simply get me stuck in the sad, terrible existence of my brain when my brain is literally refusing to think about it. My brain is overwhelmed and refusing to think about the stressors because it's unable to handle it anymore. Why would I drink and remember if I can just disappear into nothingness?



Today, everything that I needed to not happen, all happened... Today, was one of the hardest days to survive. Today, but not just today, I wished Country Boy would have taken me with him. I get mad at him for leaving me here.

I just don't want to be here anymore.

This is bullshit.

Life After Sexual Assault

I feel like I scare my friends, and you all in blog land, on a regular basis by the words I put forth from my brain. There are ridiculous amounts of anger, explicit language, and some emotions that have never been put on a radar for humans and have no labels for them.

I hate some things that should be beautiful. I despise my body for the things others have done to it. And, let's face it, I'm a regular downer. I'm processing life and I went from a more up-beat person to one filled with rage and pain.

Today, I read an article by Bethany about birthing after sexual assault. In fact, I think that's the name of the article... You can see how well my brain is working tonight...

She mentions many similar emotions to what I express, but she simply names them to keep focus on her goal. Her goal was to explain how birth actually helped her heal and see the beauty in her body. Her body is not a toy or piece of amusement for some person. Her body grew and housed a tiny, brand-new human being. He body produces milk to feed said infant. Her body is a work of art that produces and sustains life. It brought about her daughter, who is proof that goodness comes from sex. She is with a man who loves and appreciates her and does not take her body for granted. She is in a stable, committed relationship full of love and that love resulted in a baby, whom she absolutely loves.

While, at this point in my "healing" process, I don't fully trust that my body will be loved and respected the way I so desired to be treated, her article brings to light some important details that were absent from my irrational rant from last night.

1) Sex is supposed to be wonderful, fun, healthy, and an expression of love.
2) Such sex is possible after sexual assault and rape.
3) Having a child may not re-traumatize a sexual assault victim. In some ways it might, but it may also help to empower the woman and prove to herself how strong she is.
4) Healthy relationships exist (though I'm not certain I've really seen one...)
5) My negative emotions are okay and understandable after what has been done. If you've gone through a similar experience, it is okay to be upset and angry and frustrated. Just remember not to take it out on those who love and cherish you. Those in your life who are trying to help you heal should not be hurt on your path to healing.



I'm still not convinced sex will ever be a positive experience in my life, but I'm 21. I might have a lot more life to live and G-d may choose to prove me wrong and make it okay someday...

For right now I don't like it. It makes me angry thinking about it or hearing about it.

My poor dear friend got to hear a shortened, sweetened version of my rant today. I don't think she was prepared. I told her I hated it and that it has completely ruined my life. She was shocked and asked if I ever liked it. I told her I never did because it was never my choice. She didn't know how to respond. I didn't expect her to know how. I ended the conversation on a few jokes, but I think I upset her.

Maybe someday I'll learn to keep my thoughts to myself. In the meantime I get to deal with the aftermath of my runaway mouth, broken brain, and abused body.

***Probably Don't Want to Read This One***

*****This post is going to be all anger and some really bad language. Just don't read it if you don't want, it's going to be bad.*****









I hate sex. I hate it, I HATE IT, I HATE IT!!!

Yes, it is supposed to be some beautiful thing that brings about closeness in a relationship with your spouse and it results in babies occasionally.

You know what else it does? It ruins lives when forced upon someone.

Now, something that I was so excited to share with my husband and only my husband has been used to completely ruin my life and desecrate my body. It fucked up my brain and has utterly ruined my life.

I will never be okay.

Have I had sex? I don't know because I didn't choose to allow that to be done to my body!!!

Am I a virgin? I have no fucking clue because a penis has been in my vagina, but I DID NOT want it there!!!

I don't even know what I am. I don't know what I can be classified as. I don't know how to proceed to answer these seemingly simple questions because how to you answer when these things have been forced upon you?

Guys don't like the answer of "I don't know" to the question of if I've had sex or if I'm a virgin. Honestly, what the fuck am I supposed to say? How do I be honest and yet keep the pain from my past concealed for awhile longer?

I hate sex.

When i find a nice guy to simply talk to, it seems futile because they want sex because they've gotten it from other girls.

I hate sex.

I hate sex because it left my parents with me. Because of sex and some damn sperm finding my mom's egg, I'm here and they had to get married. Messed up life plans, stuck them together, and fucked it all up.

I hate sex.

I can't watch most movies, read many books, even drive down the street without flashbacks.

I hate sex.

I have nightmares and crying spells, even on my best days, because of some guys fucking penis being shoved into me.

I hate sex.

I HATE SEX!

I HATE SEX!!!

Daylight Savings, Again

Stupid Daylight Savings Day was trying to throw me off. Too bad for it, I'm exhausted from my battles with insomnia, flashbacks, and anger. Ha! You can go try to mess with someone else Daylight Savings.

Next week is spring break. This week was not supposed to have much going on for school.

Roomie's boyfriend is coming into town for a week... tonight. She should be back any moment from the airport with him. I don't handle strangers well. I handle strangers in my place of residence even more poorly. I'll probably go up to visit my parents for a couple days this week. I guess we'll see because Dad is upset with me again.

I "ditched" class today because we had a guest speaker and my brain is in no way prepared to be able to learn anything because my sleeping is getting worse, my nightmares and flashbacks are getting worse, and my attention span is shorter than it's ever been. I have no mental faculties. I was getting better but last weeks fiascoes set me back about 2 months of progress and put me back even farther than I was when I had not even begun counseling yet.

I was told that a friend admires my ability to blow life stressors off. Well, y'all know the truth about my thoughts, I just don't keep harping on things when around her so as to not stress her out or bore her to death. It's also probably not healthy that I blow everything off. My counselor tells me I'm really good at dissociation which is a fancy way of saying that I get into auto pilot when I become stressed because I no longer have any ability to deal with stress. I've been maxed out for my little brain's threshold of bad things happening so any type of stress shuts ME off and I don't know where I go, but I'm not in my right mind.

I asked my friend what she meant by saying that blowing things off was a good thing. She said she wished she could do it because she feels like she becomes too emotional. Well, I don't have emotions anymore. Honestly, it's a good day if I can start crying when I become overwhelmed instead of going about life numb. She doesn't understand but I decided to take it as a compliment and know in my brain how dangerous her comment was. She meant it as a good thing, but I know that it is because I'm sick and my brain is messed up. That'll be our secret. Yes, this friend knows about what happened with the guys and she knows I'm seeing a counselor. However, those who do not live this life do not have any way of understanding the struggles and dangers I'm facing.

Counseling is tomorrow. I'm going back numb. Counselor is going to say that it's normal to go back in steps. She's going to tell me it's okay and that I'm getting out of the numbness and other steps faster than I have before. I'm still frustrated that I had to go back. I am frustrated that I'll never be okay, I'll never be fixed.

Lately I keep noticing couples around me. I know that I'm not ready for a relationship. I know that the last two ended horribly and I'm now messed up for the rest of my life because of them. However, I'm getting discouraged because all I wanted was a prospect of a future with a possible husband and potential children. Lately my future looks bleak. I know these are negative self-thoughts and I'm supposed to work away from these. I've gotten tools to try to help me fight these bad thoughts. However, they seem totally rational and understandable to me. I know they are negative, but they feel so real. Who is anyone to tell me that my life will have a happy ending? Who's to say that there will be some guy, someday, that will treat me with respect and forgive me for my checkered past? I'm pretty certain I wouldn't believe it if an angel of the Almighty were to come to me and show me a vision of a happy future for my life with a great guy and children. I just don't believe it and it's okay. I don't want to be told otherwise. My brain will cycle through and eventually have hope for a short amount of time, but for right now my brain is angry and hurt and overwhelmed with negativity.

Oh the Legal System

My Thursday was spent at the courthouse this week. I went in and was there at probably 7:45 a.m. It took me about an hour and a half to fill out all of the pages for a restraining order. Then, I filed it and sat in a courtroom with 20-30 other people waiting to have their cases read by the judge to see if each of us would have our individual petition awarded or denied.

I wasn't the last one to file, but I was the absolute last one that was called to be talked to. I don't know if it is because the judge wanted to think about it more or because there was some other reason. It doesn't matter. I was last.

It was denied.

Normally, when she denied a protection order for the others, she would thank them for their time and that would be the end of it. When she denied mine, she told me she was going to deny it, but she told me it was okay for me to disagree and that there were other avenues I could take to get it accepted. She said I could get a lawyer and try to go farther. Again, she said this to nobody else the entire day. The courtroom was nearly empty. Maybe she saved me for last so she could tell me this? I think she wanted to grant it to me, but she got hung up on the immediacy of his threat to me. He hasn't texted me in a couple weeks so she said she hoped that would be the last time he would try to contact me.

I was followed into the hall by a domestic violence advocate. This sweet lady had helped me fill out all of the paperwork and had gotten me ready for court. She is the contact my counselor has been trying to get me in to see for a few weeks now and I am so glad she did.

When the advocate (now her new name for this blog) followed me into the hall she told me she was sorry and that my case really should have been approved. She seemed disappointed, but I don't know why. I figured she told everyone this because after many of the cases were denied, a different advocate would follow them into the hall and hand them a business card. So, I blew it off and figured she was just trying to get me to feel better. I wasn't shocked by the denial, though I had really hoped for it to be approved. Advocate told me she would talk to a lawyer, if it was okay with me, and also my Counselor to let her know what happened. I told her that was totally okay. Then I left.

I got onto the elevator and walked the two blocks back to the parking garage where my car was parked. It's all a haze now. I've grown accustomed to living life in a haze when things become difficult for me. By the time I got to my car, I had already called my mom 2-3 times. She didn't answer so I figured she was with a client. I called Brother when I was in my car but he didn't pick up. That's when the sobbing began. It was uncontrollable. The kind of sob I haven't had since a few days after Country Boy died and there is a gut wrenching noise that escapes my lips but comes from deep within. The kind that increases the pain and that people experience when they've lost someone they love dearly after a trauma. This is the kind of sob that will rip you in two if you truly allow yourself to be taken over by the pain.

15 minutes of this, I pulled myself together and knew I needed to go home to get my backpack for school. I hadn't expected to stay at the courthouse all day so I didn't think I needed it when I left that morning.

I cried the whole way home. There was a constant flow of tears, but not the sobbing. I was okay to drive, though the road was blurry.

When I got home, I collapsed onto my bed and the sobbing began in earnest again. I can't remember if I called my mom, or if she called me, but we talked on the phone. The conversation went a bit like this:

me: Mom! She said no

Mom: Oh honey, I'm so sorry!

me: I can't do this anymore (barely understandable because crying began)

Mom: It's just a roadblock, it must have needed to happen this way for a reason

me: But I'm so sick of this life! I don't want to be here anymore! (I don't even know how she knew what I was saying because my hyperventilation methods had kicked in really hard and I don't even know what words were supposed to be coming forth from my mouth. I sure as hell couldn't figure out what someone were saying if they were talking like that. I mean, it took me like 5 minutes to spit out those few words!)

Mom: Honey, I need you here. I know this is hard, but just stay here with me. Start thinking of fun stuff, put in a kids movie. What makes you happy?

me: Nothing!!! Nothing makes me happy! I don't want to do this anymore *sobs, ineffective breathing patterns, hyperventilations, periods of hardcore apnea*

Mom: Sweety, what else do you have today?

me: Just meeting *sobs* with my group *sobs* for a *sobs* group project *sobs* and then *sobs* class. But *sobs* I'm not *sobs* staying *sobs* for claaaasss! *apnea*

Mom: Okay, well just focus on breathing. Go meet with your group really quick, play happy music in your car, and then I'm coming down.

me: No, Mom. You don't have to come down today.

Mom: Okay, I'm coming down tomorrow after work. Just think about happy stuff. Funny animal videos, what about your barn with all the rescue cows that you like on Facebook? Go watch Veggie Tales. Don't think about court, just focus on happy things. Then come home and you can sleep and watch good, happy movies.

me: O-o-o-o-k-a-a-a-a-a-y *sobs, apnea, sobs, apnea*

Mom: I love you. Stay with me, I need you okay? I love you so much.

me: I love you too Mom.

We hung up.

My group was so supportive. I showed up 30 minutes late and looked like crap. My eyes were red, splotchy, swollen, and glassy. I apologized for being late and they said no problem, are you okay? I replied that I was okay and that I was just having one of the worst days. They were so sweet and just told me that they made me the dad in our little skit. I said, "I am so sorry! Are you sure I can't help anymore? I feel really bad I'm so late!" They told me it was okay. I said I was going to go ahead and go home, I wasn't staying for class. I said I had been at the courthouse all morning dealing with legal stuff and I was just stressed beyond belief. They told me to go home and get some rest. They asked if it all got sorted out but didn't press me for details because they saw I didn't want to talk about it.

How can my group, with a couple of the nosiest and most gossipy girls I have ever met in my life, be able to accept that I didn't want to talk about it? Yet, Jersey expects me to share all details of my life and then she wants to go share it with everyone she passes on the street and ever single person in our class? I don't get it!

So, I was there for a solid 5 minutes before leaving.

I headed home, but stopped by Brother's work on my way there. I told him what had happened and the tears started before the story. He came around the counter and hugged me for a solid 10 minutes while I just stood there grasping onto him for dear life, as if I were drowning, and sobbing into his shirt. My sleeves were soaked with the tears I had been wiping since I left for the group project and that was after changing sweatshirts because my other sweatshirt's sleeves were beyond soaked. So many tears!

He told me to go home, take a nap, and not worry about anything else that I needed to do that day. Then, text him when I woke up and let him know I was okay. I asked if mom had called him and he said she had. "Was she worried about me" I asked. "Yeah, she's super concerned but didn't really tell me why."

My poor family, having to deal with this crap from me. I know they love me, but I feel like such a burden because this will never end. In fact, this is all about to get significantly harder.

Next day, (Friday) was counseling. I hadn't gone on Tuesday for my session because my clinical schedule was changed without much warning. So, I only had one session this last week. That's not good. I'm on a two session a week schedule because I just can't handle my head for more than a couple days at a time on my own.

Counselor told me, first thing, that Advocate had talked with me. She asked if I wanted to talk about it. I said sure and went on for a couple minutes. I told her what the Advocate and Judge told me. She looked concerned. Then I asked if Advocate says what she told me to everyone. I asked if Advocate usually says that it can be taken farther and that a Lawyer should be consulted to get my case heard and the restraining order put in place. Counselor said that she has never seen Advocate try so hard to fight for a case. That is encouraging. I figured it was just the norm, but I guess she sees the danger that I'm sensing here. I told Counselor that I thought the Judge did too and that I thought she actually wanted to give it to me, but was hesitant because of the exact wording of the law. Counselor told me to believe that thought.

So, I went from feeling absolutely insane because I was denied a protection order, because I thought that meant the judge didn't believe me, to now believing that these women actually see the danger and the scariness of the situation but we have to work around the laws.

Guys, I'm telling you, this back and forth is making my head hurt. However, it's encouraging to have so many women who have seen other cases who all want to fight for me because they believe me when I tell them what has happened.

I don't know where I'm going from here or what will happen, but that's for the L-rd to know and orchestrate.

I heard from someone who I recently met, that ex-fiance is well known for beating girls and for being a sex addict... Yikes. This makes me so sad that I ever had to meet him. I hate that my story has gone from a happy, kind girl, to a story of so much pain that I don't even want children or a boyfriend/husband anymore.